Blackbird
by Rikkamaru
Summary: The 100 are on the ground, and they are surviving under the leadership of Clarke and Bellamy. But Clarke is skittish, and it's due to the wings that she's never shown any of them. Wing!Fic AU, No Pairings. For now.
1. Take These Broken Wings and Learn to Fly

Don't own The 100.

Don't own the Cover Art.

Take These Broken Wings and Learn to Fly

* * *

"_Clarke, you can't show anyone your wings, alright?"_

_Clarke played a little with a loose string on her bed, keeping her head down. "It's because I'm a monster, isn't it?" There was a pause, as if her father was trying to understand what his daughter had just said so casually._

"_No, no honey," Jake Griffin soothed, reaching out without any fear to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear and tipping her head so that she could see his sincerity. She noted silently that his grey and black wings were hidden as well, probably to make her feel better. "You're not a monster, Clarke. You were made to be a leader, that's all. And that will scare some people, so we're just going to hide it."_

"…_Even from Mom?" Her voice was quiet and afraid._

_Jake's face fell a little but he remained firm. "Yes Clarke, not even your mother can know. She's a bit more superstitious than either of us; she wouldn't take it well."_

"_But do I have to hide my wings _all_ the time? It hurts." Her young voice broke at the end and her father swept her up into a hug._

"_I know it does, sweetie. I know."_

* * *

"You'll be the first one on the ground," the guard, Bellamy Clarke remembers the girl calling him, promised the younger girl as he opened the hatch, his wings out in the typical fashion of the guards on the Ark. But something felt off, and Clarke focused on his wings.

They were too tucked in, she finally realized at a moment of deliberation. It was slight, but Clarke had helped her mother treat enough guards that she knew their standard at attention pose, and his wings were too tight to his back for him to have been a guard long. Or, she considered darkly, he never got passed training in the first place.

Even better.

The girl, Octavia, took a breath as she stepped onto the earth, the first person to do so in centuries. With an excited whoop, her wings burst into existence, drawing a wave of exclamations from the people still inside the dropship. Snowy owl wings stretched out behind her, the white glowing under the sunlight that filtered through the tree leaves surrounding her.

Clarke heard a few of the kids around her call Octavia an angel, and it made her happy to see such reverence for another's wings. Under her skin, her own wings twitched almost painfully in their desire to come out, but she held them back with a grimace at the flash of pain that doing so caused. But it wasn't too bad; it was a pain she has long been familiar with.

Bellamy was a step behind the girl, his eagle owl wings stretched out to catch the sun. "We're back, bitches!" Clarke heard Octavia crow out for all the world to hear and, with a roar of similar enthusiasm, the rest of the 100 ran out to greet the world they had once come from, wings bursting forth from their backs. It looked as if a flock of grounded angels were running about, clashes of red and blue and brown and black chaotic and free, and though Clarke longed to join them, she bit back the urge and looked for a map. They needed supplies.

No one knew why but, a few generations ago, the people of the Ark began to go through some unusual changes. Specifically, people began to develop wings. They started small, barely there and the correct size for the birds that had them, but recently the wings began to become proportional to the human bodies in relation to their bird.

This changed a few things on the Ark. Guards were more likely to be people whose wings were those of a bird of prey. Mechanics and doctors were also more likely to have wings of birds with sharper beaks for better maneuverability. The most notable exception to that was Abby Griffin, who had the wings of a barn owl but was still considered the best head doctor in years.

Jake Griffin, her husband, was similarly considered by some unsuited for his position as head engineer as he had the wings of a peregrine falcon, but he too was highly respected for his genuine nature and kind eyes. Their daughter was expected to defy logic in similar ways due to her family's odd history.

And she did not disappoint, though no one quite understood the full story of it outside of her and her father.

"They dropped us on the wrong damn mountain," she hissed a little in annoyance, slackening her grip on the map as her nails began to turn into talons out of annoyance. She instead glared at her hands and willed them back to normal, before any of the other birds of prey among the 100 saw them and managed to identify her species. Wells didn't seem to notice – and why would he, a part of her pointed out bitterly, when he was too busy trying to get her forgiveness to actually _see_ her? – nor did Bellamy or the condor-winged Murphy, who both told her to get the supplies herself, if she was so worried.

"Fine," she agreed, her voice clipped but stubborn. Wells tried to join her but she told him his ankle would only slow the group down. And it would; it's not like they had had time to test actually _flying_ yet, and she may hate Wells but she would never wish him dead. _Plus,_ she thought contemplatively, eyeing his mockingbird wings with a thoughtful air, _something still feels off about his hand in killing my dad. I don't know what, but…something._

Instead, she travelled with a pair of crow-wings called Jasper and Monty, who Clarke could admit she found herself fond of. It was rare for anyone to find their other half – not in the romantic way, simply a person who completed them; a life companion that would always be there. Those who particularly resonated were said to have wings of the same species, and Clarke could believe that after seeing Monty and Jasper.

The snowy owl-wing Octavia joined them too, as did – to Clarke's hidden amusement – the Spacewalker, Finn Collins. Her amusement came more from his wings, and his attempt to bluff people into thinking they were nothing more than particularly nice looking woodpecker wings. As a medic in training, Clarke needed to know as many bird species and their wings as possible, to offer people the best treatment. She knew peacock wings when she saw them.

As for his interest in her…She was unlikely to reciprocate, given her circumstances. She was the creature that everyone feared. Romance really wasn't on the schedule for Clarke.

As Octavia washed herself in the river, allowing water to slide down her body and off of her pure white wings, Clarke made a mental note to have their pharmacist delinquents work on a solution to wash their wings with. Water would work, but something to help maintain the luster like they had on the Ark would be preferable. Clarke herself had never used it, but she knew of the lengths that some of the females on the Ark would go to in order to acquire extra.

The sea serpent was quite the unpleasant surprise (then again, it kind of fit in with the river-that-wasn't-supposed-to-be-there), and Clarke was quick to check over the wound on Octavia's leg when she had the chance. "It's not infected, or poisoned," the blonde told the younger girl in relief, and making Octavia's wings droop a little in relief. Clarke smiled back at her and patted her knee, clearly hesitating for a moment. "And by the way," she added softly, a little nervous as she looked away. "I think your wings are gorgeous, and you deserve to be free more than any of us do."

White wings stiffened in surprise, and Octavia stared at her before hesitantly smiling at her. "Thanks Clarke," she whispered back, and Clarke felt a painful lurch behind her heart as her wings tried to arch in their already confined space. Ignoring the pain (she was used to it at this point), the blonde smiled back at her before standing up and moving away for Jasper to get some time with her.

When Jasper was speared in the chest, it took everything Clark had not to screech out in horror, intense agony coursing through her as her wings pushed harder than ever to break free from her back. Even as they ran back to camp, everything in Clarke cried for her to go back, to check on Japer _he might not be dead yet!_

Clarke hated the cowardice that drove them away.

* * *

It was subconsciously understood by everyone on the Ark that their wings weren't meant to be kept hidden away as often as they were. Doing so made an ache begin in their backs, where the wings were metaphysically stored.

The only people who were allowed to have their wings out whenever they wanted were the guards and the Chancellor, with the rich given a blind eye from time to time when they released them out of their rooms. That only helped brew resentment among the less privileged, as they were punished immediately for taking up more room than necessary.

The Ground changed all of that. All but two of the 100 were from less privileged families, and so they took to their new freedom like a duck to water. Everyone's wings were out, sitting proudly between their shoulder blades or flared out to catch more sunlight.

And Bellamy reveled in this new freedom, reveled in it in a way he never did even as a guard. His wings were spread out proudly, eagle owl and a symbol of his ability to lead, as all eagle and eagle-like wings were. He even had the benefit of not being a true eagle, avoiding the fear that was associated with them.

Eagles were the top predators among the birds. They were true leaders. To have an eagle born in a generation meant that change was coming with that generation. But the Ark couldn't afford to change, and that mixed with the fact that eagles were the top birds of prey among them meant that they were feared and hated, no one trusting what their ideas might lead to and what they could do. They were often floated for even talking about something different from the norm.

Shrugging off his thoughts, Bellamy turned to look around him, at what had been accomplished. People were relaxing, playing instruments made from pieces of the dropship and other…recreational activities which they were smart enough to keep to more secluded parts of the camp. Others were trying to stretch out their wings, flapping them and gliding from the lower branches of nearby trees with some success. They could fly one day, Bellamy was certain; they would fly to the tops of these trees, and be _free_ from the people that had kept them down for so long.

As the Chancellor's son and Murphy had their knife fight, the oldest among them contemplated the Ark. How the Council Members and wealthier sat in their ivory towers and killed the poorer for the simplest of reasons. As he thought of this, he felt the desire to take the knife out of Murphy's hand and end Jaha himself, but stayed his hand. He shouldn't blame a child for the sins of the father. And yet, he grimaced faintly as he took in those familiar features, that holier-than-thou look that had yet to abate, it was so easy to do so.

"Wells! What are you doing?!" The feminine cry broke up the fight as the privileged girl made her return along with one of the crows, Finn and Octavia. So the other crow was missing.

After a while, the girl returned, and kind of forced his hand to join her little ragtag group to save the missing crow – Jasper, his name was Jasper apparently. Mockingbird Jaha was with them as well. Well, Bellamy thought, at least he'd get the chance to remove the Princess' wristband. What did he care for the people on the Ark? His family was down here, and everything he hated up there. He certainly didn't want them coming down here to ruin whatever it was that he and the 100 had built.

* * *

This fic was almost called Defying Gravity until I changed my mind. So I might make that a title to a different fic in the series.

Right now there's a lot of mythos building to do, particularly in their superstitions.

Please review.

Ja ne!


	2. All Your Life

Don't own 100.

Don't own the Cover Art.

All Your Life

* * *

They found Jasper, and Clarke's knees were near weak with relief as she took him back, not acknowledging the boys as they took the panther back to feed the camp. She got him set up in the highest level of the dropship, and relaxed a little at the hug Monty gave her the moment Jasper was groaning but breathing and _alive_ in the small nest they had built for him. Unlike many others on the Ark, Clarke took comfort in the black wings that enfolded her in the hug.

Clarke returned down, and watched as the others gave away their safety for food, and hated Bellamy and Murphy all the more for it. Why they wanted so many people's deaths on their hands, she'd never understand.

She thanked Finn for some of the food he'd given, but she knew that she would need to keep her distance from then on. She didn't have time for romance, and if she did she certainly wouldn't want it from a peacock. Call her a hypocrite, but she would need proof before she'd remove that stereotype from his person in her mind.

But Jasper was getting worse, and Clarke had to cut away the infected flesh before it made him septic, and she did so even as everyone around her recoiled from his screams. She drove the knife through, and gritted her teeth against the sound and finally removed part of what would've killed him if given time.

And then the thorn in her side that was Bellamy Blake appeared, accompanied by his concerned sister.

"If you can't get the cure by the end of the day tomorrow, I will kill him," he threatened, promised, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at the boy that thought he could dictate her patient's life. "You can't make the tough decisions; I can."

Fire spread behind Clarke's eyes, and if looks could kill Bellamy would be dead ten times over. If she couldn't make the "hard decisions", what does he call the days she helped her mother shutdown someone's life support? What does he call her piercing someone's neck through with a scalpel, because they couldn't be saved and holding on would only make it worse? Clarke knew when a tough decision had to be made, and it certainly wasn't now.

And the only way he was getting his claws on Jasper's neck was if she was lying dead beside her patient, because like hell was the crow a lost cause.

She left with Wells and Finn, determined to return with the cure that will save Jasper's life. She waved briefly to the little girl she'd become acquainted with, Charlotte, who shyly waved back with her bird of paradise wings fluttering shyly behind her.

* * *

Was Bellamy in the wrong to take in little Charlotte in their hunting party?

He didn't think so. Sure, she was tiny and weak and probably the youngest Delinquent sent to the ground, but there was a stubbornness in her eyes, a brutality, a viciousness that could help her survive down here. So he gave her the knife, and he taught her the words he'd recited for so long in life that it'd become his mantra. "Screw you, I'm not afraid," she said, voice thin but growing louder, her wings opening a little more in an expression of confidence.

His feathers fluffed up, pleased, even as he tried to hide it. "We'll make a killer out of you yet," he said, jovial. They may have been hiding away from a fog that brought death and had already lost Atom – which was never something he would have wished upon the other boy, his cardinal red wings had always made him a point of teasing which he took well and gave back on – but maybe there was hope yet in what was to come.

On the other side of the forest, three people were huddled up, Clarke pressed up against Wells as she sobbed her apologies into his shoulder, her fears and doubts and suspicions finally relieved as the horrible truth came to life. "My mother killed my father, and you let me blame you for it."

She released an aching keen again as she said the words over and over, her wings struggling harder than ever to come out, to hide her from view as she broke down in front of her best friend and a boy she barely knew who was looking away in an attempt to save her dignity. Wells tried to shush her, rubbing her back and tucking her hair behind her ears. "Of course I did, Clarke. I'd do anything for you."

That only brought out a fresh wave of sobs, and this continued into the night, the Delinquents' leader finding hope in a small girl, the pariah and self-proclaimed monster cauterizing a wound that had never fully healed.

In the morning Clarke, Finn and Wells would rise and return to their trek back home, Wells' left wing tight around Clarke and Finn hovering on her other side, obviously not sure what to do as the ice princess persona broke and reformed right in front of him in a night. But even that iciness had abated somewhat, her face no longer as dark or conflicted. She still looked as if she found everyone around them annoying and not taking this as seriously as they could be, but she did look less ready to commit mass homicide.

* * *

_Jake Griffin had always been a large man, and not just physically. While he was broad shouldered and could carry his daughter on one shoulder in her youth, it was his presence that made him appear large to others._

_He knew how to hold himself, how to position his slimmer wings that made even Kain appear smaller when beside the engineer. He'd always been able to see how his presence affected others, and Abbie often joked that she was lucky he'd never had any interest in politics, or he'd have beaten her out of a job at this point._

_And he used this presence, this ability to make himself appear so much larger and deadlier than a peregrine falcon _should_ appear, to keep scrutiny away from the little light of his life. His daughter._

_A little girl with wings blacker than ink._

_He'd grown up around children with light wings, brown wings, and only two with black wings. He'd seen the way that others glanced at them, the way people refused to look at them like that would make their fear go away. People feared those with wings as black as death because they feared the unknown, and what greater unknown was there than what happened after death?_

_And so he did the best he could to hide her wings from everyone, even his wife. Abbie was an empathetic woman, but she was just as superstitious as anyone else on the Ark, and he wouldn't have her see the other part of Clarke's wings that was so alarming._

_Not if he could help it._

* * *

It was Charlotte's scream that brought him running, tripping over some of the vegetation as he ground to a halt beside her. His mouth, already opened to ask her what was wrong, snapped shut. There, lying on the ground and covered in boils and seared flesh, was Atom.

Half of the bright red feathers that normally decorated his wings were gone, leaving behind seared and boiling skin and those that remain were dirty and barely spread out on either side, as if he'd thought to flap his wings to either escape or remove the powder from his face, but the thought had come too late.

Bellamy took in his ragged breaths, his distorted eyes, and felt the rising of bile in his throat. And then he heard the words, repeating over and over in what was probably the loudest voice the other boy could muster. "Kill me. Kill me. Kill me. I – can't – _breathe_."

His wings flared out in terror. His flock, Atom was a part of his flock, and he'd have to kill him. With Jasper the words came easy. What was Jasper to him? Another set of hands, a meat shield, a brainy kid who was all bark and no bite. Expendable. But Atom was a member of his hunting party, a friend – granted a stupid friend that needed to not hit on Bellamy's sister, but a friend nonetheless – and an ally.

He was broken out of his thoughts when cool metal was pressed against his hand, and he gripped it tightly. He looked up to see Charlotte there, looking at him, his knife returned to him for this gruesome task. "Don't be afraid," she said, and the irony of those words weren't lost on him as his wings bristled in horror.

"Go back to camp," he ordered them all, staring at Charlotte to tell her she was included in that. They disappeared from view and Bellamy looked down at the other boy, blind, terrified, in so much pain.

"Bellamy, _please_," Atom gasped, and Bellamy's hands grew slick with sweat, gripping the knife tightly as if that would help him do the deed.

He couldn't…he couldn't…

The sound of a branch snapping got his head to snap around, and he stared at Clarke, her bag full and her expression frozen. She didn't bother glaring at him and settled on Atom's other side, her bag on the ground a few feet from her. "I heard screams," she said, explaining her presence.

"Charlotte found him." He told her, as her eyes flickered from one burn spot to another, looking at the bubbles under his skin and the cataracts in his eyes. "I sent her back to camp."

"_Please_," Atom begged, and he didn't have to say anything more as Clarke picked up his plea and checked vital areas frantically but still with a layer of professional calm. She looked up at Bellamy and shook her head, and he knew exactly what she was saying. Atom couldn't be saved. But he couldn't just _kill_ him.

The blonde seemed to pick that up as her eyes flickered down and away for a moment, considering, before she looked back down at Atom and gave him a sad smile. "Okay," she said gently, moving up slightly. "I'm going to help you, alright?"

Atom arched up a little in pain, gasping for air, but Clarke was there, stroking his hair, humming what sounded like a lullaby, taking Bellamy's knife out of his hand. He watched as she continued humming, watched as she slid the knife into a weak part of his throat, watched as she soothed Atom in his final rest. As he watched, she carefully removed a single feather from Atom wings, and tied a strand of hair around it.

Bellamy remembers, during some of the history classes that mentioned the creation of their wings, the theory that, had they been a warring people when they had their wings, they would've taken a feather from their enemies' wings as a trophy. And while that had never gone past theory, it was known that doctors on the Ark, when they had to give a patient a mercy kill, would take one of their feathers to wear. A sign of how many lives they had to take as a doctor.

And Bellamy now vaguely remembers seeing Clarke once before she was arrested, and the two feathers that had been twisted into her hair.

When they return to the drop site Clarke walks forward and meets briefly with Finn and Wells before continuing, mentioning something about boiling water. Bellamy grabs a passing arm. "Get Clarke whatever she needs," he tells them, and they nod back before hurrying to do as he said.

Miller appeared at his side, holding the stretcher with Atom laid out on it. "I'll go dig the grave," he said, his red-tailed hawk wings drooping in an expression of sorrow and Bellamy nodded back.

His heart ached as Octavia fought her way forward, moving around him to the covered body nearby. He knew the moment she saw Atom's body as her wings flared in shock before drooping so much the tips may have very well been touching the ground. "I did everything I cou-"

"Don't," she said angrily, her composure forcefully put back as her wings pressed tightly to her side. She shouldered past him to return to Jasper's side, but he didn't fault her for it.

Murphy lingered by his side, and he clung to the stability in his leadership. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, everyone's here," he answered in a bored manner, but his condor wings were closed to his sides in displeasure.

"Jasper?" he asked specifically, because it wouldn't do for the person their only medic risked her life for to die before they could save him.

"Still alive, barely. I tried to kill him but your psycho sister –"

A red haze covered Bellamy's eyes and when he came to again, his hands were clenching the collar of Murphy's shirt. "My what?! My what?!" He stared straight into Murphy's eyes, letting him know that he would kill him if he said the wrong thing here.

And Murphy was many things, but he wasn't an idiot. "Your little sister," he said, both as a sign of submission and a subtle accusation.

Bellamy didn't care. "Yeah, my little sister. Got anything else you want to say about her?"

Murphy's eyes burned. "Nothing," he clipped out, and Bellamy dropped him back onto the ground.

"That's what I thought."

* * *

I was planning for this to go through all of the Charlotte stuff but, as you can see, that did not end up happening. Which is fine, I had more to say about Atom's death than I had anticipated.

Thanks for reading and please review.

Ja ne!


End file.
